


Hearing Things

by Nary



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkwardness, Cecil Is Not Described, Cecil's Amazing Voice, Dirty Talk Over The Radio, First Meetings, Love at First Sight, M/M, Or Maybe Carlos Is Just Imagining Things, POV Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), Pilot Episode, Possibly Psychic Cecil, Pre-Carlos/Cecil - Freeform, Staring, The Scientists Ship Carlos/Cecil, Time Is Weird In Night Vale, Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...Welcome to Night Vale..." purred a deep voice from out of the blur of static, and Carlos' hand froze on the dial as if he'd been electrocuted.  He felt, somehow, as if this unknown man was talking directly to him, even though of course that was impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearing Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaariOsamu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaariOsamu/gifts).



Carlos didn't usually to listen to the radio, even in the car, but especially not in the lab. He found the constant interruptions of commercials and inane DJ chatter distracting. Even public radio could be annoying at times, with its pledge drives and random interviews with people he had never heard of and didn't care about. Actually, he preferred to work in silence, but Deepesh and Hannah and Liang liked a bit of background noise while they worked, and they had outvoted him.

At first they tried Pandora, but it never seemed to work quite right. Even after they each entered a few songs they liked, it would continue going back to some kind of ukulele channel, or what sounded like Tuvan throat singing, or sometimes just a quiet dripping noise, no matter how many times they gave those tracks a thumbs down. After they got frustrated with that, they took turns for a little while each playing music off their phones, but with Hannah's love of country, Liang's fondness for showtunes, and Deepesh's taste for Scandinavian power metal, it was hard to find something they could all agree on.

After a particularly vigorous debate that had included the words, "If I have to listen to the Phantom of the Opera one more goddamn time, I will shove that phone down your throat," Carlos, in an effort to make peace, had suggested they just turn on the radio. Even some bland top 40 hits would be better than this, he figured.

"An actual radio?" Hannah looked bewildered, as if it was some kind of antique. She was just out of her masters degree, and Carlos had to remind himself sometimes that she had been born in 1990. Hell, The Simpsons was older than she was. 

"Where'd you dig that up?" Deepesh asked. Liang was still pouting about the Phantom.

Carlos shrugged. "It was already here in the lab when I rented it. Maybe whoever used the place before us left it behind." He brushed a light coating of dust off the little black box and switched it on. There was a blast of screeching static that made them all cover their ears before he found the volume and turned it down to a less-deafening level. Not knowing what any of the local stations might be, he scrolled randomly around the dial, seeking something - anything - that would be inoffensive enough to let them all just get back to work already. There were those crazy seismic measurements to interpret (although there had been no discernible movements of the ground), and Deepesh had some soil samples to analyze from the yard of the house that wasn't there, and Carlos had called a town meeting for later that afternoon where he would prefer to have some kind of data to present beyond just "this town is weird!"

"...Welcome to Night Vale..." purred a deep voice from out of the blur of static, and Carlos' hand froze on the dial as if he'd been electrocuted. He felt, somehow, as if this unknown man was talking directly to him, even though of course that was impossible.

"What's this, the local public access channel?" Deepesh asked, looking up from his microscope.

"Oh yeah," said Liang. "I caught some of this guy's show in the car on the way over. It's community news and information and stuff. Sometimes there's music too."

"Great," Hannah said, turning back to her notes. "So we can leave it here and stop arguing." 

Carlos nodded slowly, mesmerized by the flow and cadence of the radio host's words, and withdrew his hand warily, worried that he might lose the station's signal if he wasn't touching the dial, but it remained. And as the others carried on with their work, he listened. He listened to news stories about jet planes appearing in the school gymnasium, about mysterious lights in the sky above the Arby's, about angels. Stories that couldn't possibly be true, and yet, when presented in that smooth and gorgeous voice, seemed strangely plausible. He could have spent all day making notes of new phenomena to investigate based solely on the news, but he had a town meeting to get ready for. Reluctantly, he pulled his attention back to his preparations.

But somehow that voice insinuated its way into his brain, so much so that when it stopped and a song began to play instead, he felt unexpectedly... empty. But it also allowed him a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. "Time for the meeting," he announced to his team briskly. "Guys, once you finish up here, how about you head over to the Arby's and see if you can get some spectroscopic readings on any unusual lights that might be in the sky."

The town meeting went about as well as he'd expected (although the corn muffins were a bit bland.) There were surprisingly few questions afterwards, although there was some murmuring from the men in identical black suits standing at the back of the room. The little old lady who had brought the corn muffins seemed friendly, though. "It's very good that you came to our little town," she assured him, smiling and patting his hand between her wrinkled palms. "The angels say that it's important."

"Thank you, ma'am," he told her politely, distracted momentarily by a man who was staring at him from across the room. There was nothing amazingly distinctive about him apart from his eyes - they were piercing, almost unsettling in their intensity, and they never left Carlos. Their gazes met for a long moment, but Carlos looked away first, uncomfortable. When he did, he saw that the old woman was chuckling. 

"Don't worry, dear, that's just Cecil. Our local reporter, radio host... also quite a good bowler," she added with a wink.

So this was the mysterious voice on the radio? Carlos half-wanted to go over and talk to him, just to find out if he sounded the same in person, but he had no idea what he would say, and anyway, the guy was still staring, and now there was a slight smile on his face as well, and it was starting to creep Carlos out a little bit. He stammered something vague but polite to the old woman who was still clasping his hand, extricated himself, and made his escape. Somehow dealing with buildings that looked like they were there but weren't, or earthquakes that no one could feel, seemed easier than talking to one beautiful-voiced man.

Once he was safely in his car on the way back to the lab, his hand drifted to the barely-ever-used radio. He turned it on, expecting a different program, or some music or something, but instead he heard Cecil's sonorous tones once more. For a minute he thought maybe it was a pre-recorded show, because how else could Cecil's voice be coming from the radio when he'd seen him at the meeting less than three minutes before? But no - as he listened, he realized with growing surprise that Cecil was talking about the meeting that had just happened. "Carlos told us that we are by far the most scientifically interesting community in the U.S.," Cecil said, and that was true, he had said that, since it had seemed the most diplomatic way of saying "your town is weird." 

"...He grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly," Cecil's voice continued, and Carlos almost drove into a streetlight. He wondered if maybe he hadn't heard that right, but it seemed hard to misinterpret, unless maybe Cecil was talking about someone else. He was concentrating so much on trying to figure out if there were any possible alternate meanings to "fell in love instantly", and on driving in a straight line and not dying, that he missed most of the next part of what Cecil said. By the time he was able to pay attention again, it was on to something about the NRA, and he turned it off. He was nearly at the lab anyway.

Hannah and Liang were giggling about something as he walked in. They both turned to look at him, then giggled more. "What?" he snapped. 

"Apparently you have perfect hair," Liang smirked. "The guy on the radio says so."

Carlos ran a hand self-consciously through his hair. It was a bit longer than usual - really he should have had it cut before he'd moved, but he hadn't had time, and he hadn't yet found a barber in Night Vale. He certainly didn't think it was anything like perfect, even on a good day. "The guy on the radio is named Cecil," he said, instead of anything about his hair. "And the town meeting went fine, thanks for asking."

"Cecil sounds cute," Hannah said. "Did you meet him? Is he cute?"

"I saw him at the meeting. He's... fine, I guess," he replied noncommittally. In fact, he was having a bit of a hard time remembering exactly what Cecil had looked like, although he was sure he would recognize him if he saw him again. He cleared his throat, ready to change the subject. "So, did you have any luck at the Arby's?" 

"No," Hannah sighed. "But we brought you back a French Dip," she added, gesturing to a bag on the table.

That evening, the sun didn't set at the right time. Carlos double-checked it on multiple clocks, and it was definitely ten minutes too late. 

"We should phone the radio station guy and tell him!" Liang said, a little too brightly for Carlos' liking.

"Oh I don't know if that's necessary," he began, but he was shouted down by Hannah and Deepesh. They played rock, paper, scissors for the right to be the one to make the call. Hannah gloated when she won, and tapped in the station's number. 

"Yes, that's right," Carlos heard her say. "Ten minutes late. Carlos confirmed it himself." There was a slight pause. "Yes, he's here. Did you want to talk to him personally?" Carlos waved his hands in a desperate bid to avoid having the phone pressed on him, but he couldn't avoid it.

"Carlos here," he said, taking refuge in his most brisk and business-like tone. 

"Hi, Carlos," said the voice at the other end of the wire, the one he already knew so well. It sounded a little less sultry and a little more perky, which didn't do anything to reassure Carlos. "It's really interesting, this business about the sunset. So.... so neat!"

"It's very unusual," he agreed, keeping his voice neutral. 

"Do you have any explanation of the phenomenon for our audience?"

"I, uh... no, not yet," he stammered, caught off-guard. "Am I on the air right now?"

"Oh, no, no," Cecil said hastily. "Right now it's the weather. But I'll run this story as soon as it's over."

"Okay," Carlos replied, glancing at the others, who stopped looking at him and pretended to be carefully examining the lab's clock. "I have to go now."

"It's been lovely talking with you," said Cecil just before Carlos hung up, feeling nervous and awkward and uncomfortably sweaty.

True to his word, Cecil did run the story about the sunset shortly afterwards. Carlos wondered how he could describe so accurately how they'd all sat in a circle around the clock on the desk - although he might not have chosen the word 'cooing'. Was it just a journalistic lucky guess? He wasn't so sure.

Deepesh and Liang headed home not too long afterwards, while Hannah opted to walk over to Big Rico's for a slice of pizza. Carlos settled in at his computer, thinking he might finally be able to get some work done. His team were great - he'd chosen them for their skills, not just for their willingness to relocate to a little town in the middle of nowhere for an indefinite span of time - but they could be a distraction too.

He'd almost forgotten the radio was on when he heard the familiar voice once more. He was beginning to wonder if Cecil ever went home. (Was there anyone there for him to go home to? Carlos tried not to ponder Cecil's personal life too much.) This time, the radio host's topic, and tone of voice, seemed much more intimate than any of the previous broadcasts Carlos had heard. 

"...running my hands through his beautiful, luxurious hair, stripping off his lab coat so that I can kiss every inch of his magnificent body..."

Carlos sat very quietly for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. There had to be some reasonable explanation for this. None were coming to him right at the moment, but there had to be one. Maybe Cecil was... reading a report from the City Council. About the dangers of pornography. Scientist-themed pornography.

"... licking that sensitive spot at the inside of his perfect elbow before sliding down further and sucking his..."

Carlos walked over to the radio. Maybe it was picking up another (more erotic) signal. Maybe after nine the station changed to some kind of explicit call-in confessional show. He was about to examine it more closely when the door to the lab opened and Hannah wandered in. "Forgot my--"

"There's nothing interesting about my elbows!" Carlos blurted, jumping in front of the radio as if he could stop what was coming out of it just by hiding it from sight.

Hannah arched an eyebrow at him, picking up her forgotten jacket. "Ooookay, good to know." She looked uncertain whether she should stay or leave. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No! I mean, nothing," Carlos babbled. He reached behind him, trying to find the radio's power button, but only succeeded in turning the volume up. "There's nothing strange going on, everything's perfectly fine," he continued, trying futilely to cover Cecil's voice with his own (like, oh God, Cecil was in the middle of describing, with incredibly vivid terms, covering his body with his own, holding him down before blowing his load right into Carlos' perfect hair...) Surely Hannah would be able to hear it, and then she'd know everything... 

But she wasn't reacting to Cecil's words, as far as Carlos could tell. There would be no way Hannah could let something like that go without some kind of teasing comment or joke. She seemed more concerned than anything. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Carlos hesitated. He could try explaining it to her, but then he'd never be able to look her in the eye again. In the moment of awkward silence, Cecil's voice carried clearly, and Carlos flinched, bracing himself for some still more embarrassing revelation, if such a thing was possible. 

"...Please do not speak to or acknowledge any angels that you may come across while shopping at the Ralph’s," Cecil warned his audience, "or at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. They only tell lies and do not exist." 

Carlos let out a sigh of relief, slumping back against the counter. Hannah glanced at the radio, puzzled. "Breaking news about the angels who don't exist?" she inquired.

"No, it's not that, I just..." He paused, considering what he could get away with asking her. "Did you hear anything... unusual... on the radio just now?"

She looked at him like he was nuts. "Carlos, everything on the radio here is unusual. Being reminded that the hierarchy of angels doesn't exist seems like par for the course."

"And that was all you heard?" 

Hannah looked more worried now. "Yes, of course. It's been a really long day - maybe you should go home and get some rest."

Carlos nodded slowly. Could it have all been in his head? He didn't think so - it had seemed so real. But then, how could Cecil have known about the sensitive spot inside his elbow? Maybe the most logical explanation was just that he'd zoned out at the computer and imagined it. He wasn't sure he liked the implications of that, but he liked the implications of it having been real (and really broadcast to the entire town) even less. "You're right," he said slowly. "I should probably do that. Sleep would be good."

He meant to go back to his rented place, really he did. Instead, he found himself throwing some equipment into the car and driving to the radio station. He didn't turn the radio on in the car, just in case something else weird happened. He didn't think he could deal with that right now. 

He walked into the radio station, expecting there to be a receptionist or someone who would tell him he couldn't interrupt while the host was on the air. Instead, there was a darkened door marked 'Station Management', and a bored-looking teenager chewing gum and texting. Her name tag said 'Kristi'.

"Excuse me," Carlos said to her, and she looked up. "My name is..."

"Carlos," she said between cracks of her gum. "I know. He's in there." She nodded down the dimly-lit hallway before going back to playing with her phone. 

The walk to the studio seemed to take forever. Carlos wasn't even sure what he was hoping to find here, but he was picking up some unusual levels of radiation, and other signals he wasn't even sure how to interpret yet. Some kind of temporal anomaly, like the sunset? He would need to investigate further. The red 'ON AIR' sign's glow reminded him to keep quiet as he approached the booth.

Cecil looked up as he approached, and smiled at him through the glass. Carlos wondered how he could possibly have forgotten what he looked like. He pressed some buttons, then stood, removing his headphones, and opened the door. "What a surprise!"

Carlos gave a tight-lipped smile in return. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"It's all right," Cecil told him. "I sent it to commercial, I have a couple of minutes. I don't suppose I can tempt you into staying for an interview? I know the people out there are excited to hear from you - so many exciting discoveries already!"

"Maybe another time," he replied. "I just came to..." To what? To try and figure out what was going on between them? To take some readings and come up with a scientific explanation for it all? Just to see Cecil again? He pushed those thoughts aside hastily. "... to test for certain materials." He left it deliberately vague, since he himself had no idea what he was hoping to find. "Can I check your studio?"

Cecil grinned and nodded excitedly, ushering him into the small booth. "It's very scientific-looking. Your, um... thing." He pointed in the general direction of the instrument Carlos had brought, which he was now sweeping over the sound board and the microphone. It beeped alarmingly at that.

"That's odd," Carlos murmured under his breath, looking at the readout. "It shouldn't be nearly that high..." He might have expected similar levels from standing inside an X-ray machine, or in a canyon filled with radon, but not in what seemed like a perfectly ordinary sound booth. Surreptitiously, he scanned Cecil at the same time. The readings shot off the charts. "Probably you should evacuate the station," he suggested nervously.

Cecil just chuckled. "I'm nearly done for the night, I'll leave then. If you wanted to stick around five more minutes, we could..."

"No," Carlos said, distracted. "No, I really have to get going." Get back to the lab and see what the hell he was detecting here, try and figure out what it all meant...

"Maybe another time," Cecil said, sounding a little disappointed. He glanced at his time. "I have ten seconds and then I'm back on the air."

"Oh, sorry," Carlos said. "I'll get out of your hair." As the words left his mouth he wished he hadn't said them. Cecil blushed and stammered something incomprehensible, and Carlos backed out of the booth and all but ran down the corridor to get out. Kristi had disappeared from the desk, and there were some disconcerting sounds of chewing from behind the Station Management door, but all Carlos wanted right now was to get back to the relative safety of his car, and then back to the lab. 

As he slid into the driver's seat, he hesitated only a moment before turning on the radio. "...another clear night and pretty evening here in Night Vale," Cecil was saying. "I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with..." Carlos had a feeling he wouldn't be sleeping at all tonight, but he wished, just for a moment, that he did have someone to share it with, someone who could hold him close and make him forget about everything that was confusing and alarming and just plain weird for a little while. 

"Good night, listeners, good night." He pretended that Cecil was speaking to him as they cuddled up in bed together, saying "good night, Carlos, good night." It didn't make things in Night Vale feel any less weird or unsettling, but for a moment it was nice to imagine.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
